


Starting Over

by solemnwar



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Post-Quinncident, Relationship Problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 22:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20731493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solemnwar/pseuds/solemnwar
Summary: After the incident at the Transponder Station, the relationship between Quinn and Tawa-ret lay in pieces. Unable to trust him again, but unable to let the relationship go, what is a Sith Lord to do?





	Starting Over

Tawa-ret paced her Dromund Kaas apartment, walking from one end of the hall to the other as she contemplated her life.

Once, she had thought she had everything figured out. She was her family’s _ticket_ to _legitimacy_ in the Empire. Aliens were not well regarded in the Empire, but her family had done well enough, amassing an influential trade empire. She’d grown up with everything... _except_ the respect of her human and Sith peers.

And then one day, during a social party in which she had been _so bored_, a Sith Lord had noticed that she was force sensitive. She’d had no idea how Tawa-ret had gone so long without being noticed until then, and immediately scheduled to have her enrolled in the academy. The War with the Republic had taken its toll on the Sith, and they were eager to take in _anyone_ who was force sensitive, even an alien. Her family had, of course, been positively _thrilled_. A Sith Lord in the family would grant them the prestige they so sorely desired, although it never seemed to occur to them that she might _fail_ and _die_.

Not that it had been a concern. She’d proven immensely powerful, so much so that an Overseer on Korriban had fast-tracked her training in a power bid... one that _he’d_ lost, but _she’d_ come out on top of.

Tawa-ret supposed that she had him to thank for her current status as the Emperor’s Wrath. Thank, and _curse_, for the title was like ashes in her mouth.

She had _won._ Baras was dead, she was among the most powerful of the Sith, and yet... _and yet_...

Glass shattered as she punched a window with a feral scream, a vain attempt to ventilate the anguish boiling beneath her breast ever since the transponder station. She kicked the baseboard with a less passionate cry and stalked away from the broken window, a _fine_ metaphor for her life, dripping blood on the floor as she made her way to the bathroom.

“Is everything alright out there?” Came Byz’s voice from the room over. “Tawa?”

“I’m fine, Byz,” she flatly assured her friend, opening the bathroom cabinet for the tweezers. It turned out that having glass stuck in your hand _really hurt_.

“Are you sure? I heard glass break and you scream—_your hand is bleeding!_”

The diminutive pureblood rushed over to Tawa, completely ignoring her insistence that she was _fine_ don’t _worry about it_ and grabbing her arm to take a closer look. “What are you doing _punching glass?_” Byz scolded, and Tawa felt the manipulation of the Force around her hand, pushing out the shards and mending the cuts. “Honestly, sometimes I think you live up to your “Wrath” title a little too well!”

Tawa glowered at the wall, pretending that she was annoyed at her friend’s meddling, but honestly she just didn’t want to look at the ring gracing Byz’s left hand. “You worry yourself too much,” she said. “Don’t you have more important things to be concerning yourself, _Darth Oculus?_”

Byz rolled her eyes. She _hated_ that name. “If Marr ever has a child, he is _not_ allowed to name it. We’ll send Kalaheo in to distract him, and Isebaas can discreetly put a _proper_ name on the registry.”

“Instead of worrying about a _hypothetical_ child of _another person_ maybe you should focus on having a family of your own?” Suggested Tawa, not _quite_ able to keep the acid out of her voice.

Byz frowned, looking hurt. “What’s gotten you so tetchy?”

Tawa sighed, sitting heavily down on the edge of the bathtub. “Sorry, sorry... you don’t deserve that, you’ve done nothing wrong.” _It’s not your fault that you’re married and happy and I’m... anything but._ “I just need some Jedi to _punch_ and I’ll probably feel better. Or maybe sex.”

“What, is cheating on your boyfriend with that black ops soldier of yours not doing it for you anymore?” asked Byz, and _she_ definitely didn’t try to hide the acidity there. They’d already had this conversation, and Tawa wasn’t exactly keen on repeating it.

“I haven’t slept with Pierce for _weeks_, if you must know, and it’s hardly ‘cheating’ when Quinn and I are... on a break.” Even though the break was _her_ idea, it still hurt to say it out loud.

“Tawa, it’s been _months_,” said Byz, exasperated. “You’re obviously _no closer_ to trusting Quinn than you were before. _Break up with him._”

“It’s not that simple, Byz...”

“You cannot honestly be telling me you’re still in love with him?” Byz snapped, arms crossed. “He tried to _kill_ you, remember? I find it a miracle that you even let him _live_, never mind this... _shallow pretense_ of a relationship. You can’t bear to let him touch you; you have _nightmares_ about him trying to _kill you _in bed—”

“_Yes_, Byz, I’m _quite_ aware as _I’m the one who told you_,” Tawa interrupted, rubbing her temples. “I know it’s stupid. I know I should just end the relationship and have Quinn reassigned somewhere. Force knows he’d do well wherever he went.”

“Well, maybe not assassinations.”

“_Cute_.”

“So why haven’t you, then?”

“Because I don’t want to,” she said stubbornly. “Because in spite of everything, I still love him. Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t feel the same if Andronikos tried to kill you?”

“If Andronikos tried to kill me he’d be _dead._”

“What happened to the cute little Sith who was all baby-eyed and innocent that I met on Vaiken Spacedock?” Tawa complained.

“She grew up,” Byz replied flatly. “Love isn’t enough to sustain a relationship, Tawa. If there’s no trust, there can’t _be_ a relationship. You tried to salvage it and failed. End it, mourn the loss of a relationship, and move on.”

Tawa sighed, again. “I’ll think about it.”

“Maybe try thinking a little harder.”

* * *

Quinn quickly read through the report on his holopad, using peripheral vision and luck to navigate the streets of Dromund Kaas as he did so. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the streets were crowded with activity, but he managed not to run into someone, which on the capital of the Empire could prove fatal, if you bumped into the wrong person.

There was much to be done, and little time to do it. With the pressing matters of an Imperial working for a Sith Lord, he was quite distracted, as otherwise he would have noticed the two men flanking him, blocking off his escape path as a woman stepped in front of him.

“Captain Malavai Quinn, you are to come with me,” she said crisply, hands clasped behind her, back straight, and Quinn couldn’t help but admire her posture. “Darth Oculus has requested your presence at once.”

_Byz? What could she possibly want?_ Quinn frowned, feeling a chill creeping up the back of his neck. _Something’s not right here._ “As honoured as I am that she wishes to see me, I am unfortunately tied up with business to the Emperor’s Wrath, so if you will excuse me...”

One of the men grabbed his arm as he tried to back away, stopping him short. “Darth Oculus _insists_,” he said flatly, with a decidedly non-Imperial accent, and a closer look showed faint scarring on his neck and face that looked like the ritualistic slave scars some Sith Lords put on their slaves.

“Be gentle, we wouldn’t want to cause an _incident, _would we?” The woman said, raising a cautionary hand to the man, and the movement briefly revealed a lightsaber hidden beneath the jacket she swore.

He had thought his kidnappers — as it was becoming clear that that was what was happening — were military, but he now realised that they were, in fact, Sith.

“Well, if she _insists_,” he said, “then I suppose I should endeavor not to disappoint.”

A tight smile from the woman in front of him. “Indeed not.”

* * *

Darth Oculus — it was still difficult to think of her that way; he’d known her as Byz for so long, her friendship with Tawa-ret predating his service to her — was seated behind a large, ominous-looking desk, artifacts and ancient texts stacked haphazardly all over, leaving only enough space for the computer that she was working on. The ruffian she’d made the baffling decision to marry was lounging at a table behind her, looking to be reading something off a datapad.

“My Lord, Malavai Quinn, as summoned,” the woman announced.

“I believe that he’s a _Captain,_ Sorvei,” Byz said absently, not looking up from her work. “We do not wish to cause an incident with the military. Be sure to use the appropriate titles.”

“My apologies, my Lord,” said Sorvei, bowing.

“It’s alright, Sorvei; this particular Imperial isn’t worth worrying about,” she said, looking up, and Quinn could see more than a little hostility in her eyes. “Leave us.”

Sorvei bowed again, then turned sharply on her heel and left the office, hitting a button so that it closed behind her.

“Andronikos?” The pirate looked up at the mention of his name. “Could you please step outside, as well? This is a private matter.”

He rose an eyebrow, but didn’t press the matter. “Alright. I’ll be just outside if you need me,” he said. He spared Quinn a curious look as he walked past, but said nothing.

The door hissed open and shut behind him, and Byz leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands.

“You wished to see me, my Lord?” Quinn said, giving a polite bow.

“I would be quite happy to never have to see you again,” she said flatly, and he winced. “You have caused an irredeemable amount of harm to my best friend, something I will _never_ forgive you for.”

“No less than what I deserve,” he agreed quietly.

“So you say, and yet you insist on _compounding_ the injury by staying,” said Byz.

“Lord Tawa-ret wishes that I remain...”

“Yes, because she is under the delusion that there is something salvageable between the two of you,” she snapped, and Quinn felt the hair on the back of his neck rise at the same time the lights in the room flickered, and he was filled with a sense of dread. She took a deep breath, leaning back into the chair, and the oppressive feeling faded, although he could still feel it lingering quietly in the background. “Tawa doesn’t have the heart to do what needs to be done. You have that ability.”

“And what would that be, My Lord?”

“Dump her,” she said, blunt. “Take the step that she won’t, end this useless charade, so that she can properly grieve for the relationship and then _move on_.”

Quinn’s lips thinned, and he straightened, squaring his shoulders. “With all due respect, My Lord, this is hardly any of your business,” he said, gripping his hands behind his back.

“Let me put this another way, Quinn,” said Byz. “I’m a _Dark Council member_. I have a great deal of power at my disposal. Unless you want to be found three days dead in a _ditch_, I suggest you do what I say.”

“Are you actually _threatening me_ — ”

“Sorvei, can you please show the Captain on his way?” Byz said through the intercom at her desk, talking over him completely. “Our business is finished.”

“My Lord — ”

“Good day, Quinn,” she said, as Sorvei entered the room. “Think about what I said.”

With that, he was quickly ushered out of Byz’s office, and just as quickly out of the Citadel, left with a curt bow to find his own way back.

“Wonderful,” he muttered under his breath. “Perfect.”

As he made his way to the shuttles, he pondered on what to do. While Byz was softer than one would assume a Sith would be, she still had the capacity for hard decisions, and cruelty if pushed too hard. He had no doubt she would make good on her threat.

He had no desire to terminate his relationship with Tawa-ret, however he couldn’t help but agree with Byz’s assertion that something had to be done about the current state of said relationship. He’d been giving Tawa-ret space, letting her come to terms with his unforgiveable betrayal at her own pace, but if it was causing her that much pain...

Quinn paid the fare for a shuttle, and as it chauffeured him back to the markets, an idea began to form.

* * *

Tawa drummed her fingers on the cafe table, trying (and failing) to concentrate on the words on the datapad in front of her. The Emperor’s Wrath had things to do, but she was having a hard time caring about, far more concerned about other matters.

Those other matters being the location of Quinn, who was 10 minutes late for their meeting. _That man is absurdly punctual, to the point of _madness_, what could possibly be keeping him?_ She sighed, absently scrolling through the datapad. Her thoughts were always consumed by him. Sith used their emotions to fuel them, and passion and the like were common ones, but if that passion only resulted in indecision, what use was it? _Maybe Byz is right..._

“Excuse me, my Lord,” came a familiar voice, “but could I be so bold as to sit with you?”

Tawa looked up, seeing Quinn standing beside her — and it was very telling of her current mental state, that she hadn’t sensed him before — and looking every bit the careful, doting Imperial.

“Quinn, why on the Empire would it be bold to sit with me?” She asked.

“It’s very bold for an Imperial to request to sit with a Sith Lord he doesn’t know, wouldn’t you say?”

“So... what, are we doing a role-play where we don’t know each other?”

“Precisely.”

“... Quinn, what is this about?” Tawa asked, baffled. Not to be unkind to the man, but Quinn was hardly the imaginative sort, and he had always been quite resistant to any sort of “livening up” she introduced to their sex life.

He took that as an invitation to sit down — which she hardly minded, and it was annoying to have to look up at him anyways — and steepled his fingers. “It has come to my attention that we... cannot continue, as we are now,” he said slowly. “Our relationship... it’s not where it should be. Not in the slightest. Which, of course, is entirely on _me_, I understand that.

“My mistake was in not appropriately trying to _address_ it. You said, after the... _incident_... that you didn’t know who I was anymore,” he explained. “I was like a stranger to you.”

“Yes, I do remember this conversation, Quinn,” Tawa said mildly.

“Please let me finish, My Lord,” he said, and Tawa rose an eyebrow. For Quinn, that was downright _rude_. “I had thought that the best course of action was to let you work on it on your own pace, to let you come to me when you were ready to. However, for a relationship, it takes both parties working _together_ to fix things, and I foolishly, stupidly neglected my half of it. If you didn’t know who I was, I should have made myself known.”

“So your idea is to... what, start over?” She asked. “Forget everything that’s happened and start again?”

Quinn shook his head. “No, that wouldn’t be possible,” he said. “What I’m suggesting is that we... rebuild.”

“That sounds a lot like starting over, Quinn.”

He shook his head again. “Think of a relationship like... a building, built between the two people in it,” he explained. “Ours was bad from the start, with a flimsy foundation. Cracks formed, it crumbled... it wasn’t up to code. What we need to do... if you are willing... is to tear down that building and _rebuild_, learning from our... _my_ mistakes. To build a stronger relationship.”

Tawa was quiet, thinking. What he said made a sort of sense, she supposed. And, really... what did they truly know about each other? She knew hardly anything about his personal life that didn’t involve her, who his family was, his friends, his history. She barely even knew his likes and dislikes; she’d had weekend flings that she’d known better than him. And what did he know of her? He most likely knew who her family was, where she’d gotten her education, all that statistical stuff, but she’d never actually _talked_ to him about her home life, the things she’d done before she’d become a Sith. She was fairly certain he didn’t even know she was _bi_, for mercy’s sake.

_You could easily make the argument that this relationship was doomed to fail from the start,_ she thought, watching Quinn fidget slightly as he waited for her response. That was mostly her fault, as much as Quinn wanted to take the blame for everything. She’d never been one for commitment, and hadn’t expected the relationship with him to be any different, and she _had _pushed him into the relationship, after all.

Power imbalances, ignorance, secrets... a shaky foundation, indeed. Were they any better now?

She slid a thumb along the edge of the datapad. “If an Imperial were to be so bold as to approach a Sith Lord,” she said slowly, “he should offer to pay for lunch.”

He looked confused at first, before realisation dawned and an expression of pure _relief_ crossed his face, the tension he’d been holding in his body releasing as he laughed slightly. “Of course, My Lord,” he agreed, the fingers of one hand lightly brushing hers. “How foolish of me, to forget myself.”

“I’ll forgive your mistake on account of you being so cute,” she said, letting herself take his hand in hers, the one betrayal of their little act.

“I hope to be of better service than just my looks, My Lord.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey look, it's Byz! Hi Byz! One day I'll get back to you, I swear... and boy, you certainly are terrifying, aren't you? Hopefully I'll be able to get you there organically augh...
> 
> Man, the Quinncident gives you all sorts of fun ways to look at the relationship between Quinn and the Warrior, eh? It never really sits right with me that the Warrior and Quinn just sort of... go right back to where things were before like the incident never happened. With how I think about it, Tawa *attempts* to do that, but it doesn't work out that way, so she puts it all on hold. And sleeps with Pierce. And then just sort of... dithers.
> 
> But I like the idea of them starting over, or rebuilding, as it were, and this time going about it slowly, taking the time to *actually* get to know each other.


End file.
